Crimson
by RippahGoneWolf
Summary: Jean Thibodeaux was a cop with her own set of problems. She was fine with dealing with it on her own, but her dark past comes back to haunt her with too many coincidences involved. Things especially get stranger once she saw her previously missing best friend in a damn tv show! Too bad this wasn't another hangover. Fate has other plans.
1. Prologue

**A/n: Hello, I'm RippahGoneWolf. Generally, I wrote stories for the Vampire Diaries and the Originals. I just got into DW recently and I've had too many people wanting to put my writing skills to the test. This is the first time I ever wrote a Doctor Who fanfic so I hope you bear with me. :) Now you're going to need to pay attention to this author's note before you read. **

**My best friend on here is The Doctor's Charlene. If you know already, she's written the Charlene, Charlene Who? And Never Be The Same. Her oc is Charlene and it features the Doctor as the romantic part. I wanted to give my own little spin on her fanfic with my own oc, who you are going to meet in this. Don't worry. There's no love triangle between Charlene, the Doctor, and my oc. But the story will feature my oc and how she's tied in. **

**This will start around season 3 to give you a start. I hope you like what I'm putting out. :) **

**Please Review!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except for the characters I create. :)**

Chapter 1: Prologue

_Crimson. _

_That's all she could see. _

_It was everywhere. All her senses acted upon it. She could feel the blood on her hands, coating them in a sticky manner. The coppery, metallic liquid sprouted from her tongue as she bit hard, trying to hold back the turbulent flood of emotion threatening to overcome her. The smell of death and blood permeated the room, making her nauseous and sick to her stomach in the worst way possible. She heard the screams of pain escaping from herself that personified the agony in that precise moment with the world crashing around her. _

_But the worst part of those senses were sight. What she could see with her waking eyes. _

_Those memories from hell burned into her memory. A nightmare she would never forget for as long she lived. One of those many demons that lurked in her mind despite burying everything about it deep down. _

_But this was the worst of it all. Nothing compared to this pain she desperately tried to keep hidden. _

_All of them...dead. _

_And the worst part of it? _

_It was all her fault. _

"NOOOOO!" She screamed from the top of her lungs as she came down from the tornado of familiar panic and fear, sitting straight up in a cold sweat. Heaving heavy breaths, a cold shudder of realization washed over her. It still came. That same blasted day that would always haunt her like a ghost. It always happened like this. Every damn year it was the same pattern.

Looking around her, it appeared that her room was still the same. Nothing was out of place. Every detail remained in perfection, nowhere out of line. Good...she guessed.

She should be used to this. That's what the doctors said, she remembered. It was all part of the grieving process, even if it was only almost four years ago, but it was all the same to them. Just another victim of a tragedy. They think they knew her from the inside out. She wasn't blind. She saw the pity in their eyes. The phrases were the same fucking mantra. Poor thing...it's so awful...what a tragedy.

They were all wrong about one thing. It wasn't a tragedy. It was murder.

And it was all her fault.

She blamed herself for that goddamned day, and she never forgave the people responsible. She never forgot either.

As she tried to shake the bad dreams away from her mind, the sound of the ringtone of her phone pierced her ears as she tried to wake up for another day again. She gave out a low growl as she picked up her phone to answer. She didn't have to even look to see who was calling her. "I swear, your ass is already in the frying pan if you keep calling me at this early in the morning," she said into the phone as she rummaged through the mess of clothes on the floor to get to the bathroom.

"Oh, come on. You need to lighten up, Jeanie-bean. It's my job to make sure that my partner's wellbeing is in good hands," he defended himself so eloquently like he always does.

Jean wasn't in the mood to deal with this. "I swear, you call me that name again, and I'll break the promise I made to the Captain and actually come back to work. And guess which person's back I'm going paint a huge red target on with my gun aiming right at?"

"He would have your ass more than mine if you didn't stick with your vacation!"

Oh, golly. How could she ever forget? Her favorite word of the day always was thrown in her face. "Don't remind me, Aaron. Cap'n practically shoved this vacation shit down my throat. He knows how I hate that, and he knows how I feel about them."

"But he knows what's best for you, Jean. I mean, am I the only one who knows you better than yourself?" Aaron asked her as she could hear him muttering about something before a clattering crash and a cat's hissing echoed from the other end of the line. "Dammit, you stupid cat! Now, I have clean up this mess because of you!"

Jean finally made it to the bathroom with ease while laughing to herself a little hearing the...entertainment from the other end. That cat was always getting on his nerves. Setting her phone down and putting it on speaker, she decided to at least get a handle at the mess of tangled knots in her hair. It was a few moments after that she heard another crash and the cat screeching followed by a very familiar yelp from her partner. God, how was he so good in the field yet when he was at home, he was a downright goofball? That never made sense to Jean. "Paris giving you a hard time again?" she called out to Aaron, referring to his live-with girlfriend's cat. "You still alive?"

"I'm alive, woman! Hold your horses!"

"One problem, smart guy. I don't have horses," she quipped.

"Okay, smartass. I heard ya." Yeah, like that's a name she hadn't been called before. Rolling her eyes, Jean chuckled to herself as she brought the purple brush to her hair, grimacing at the hard knots that formed in her hair from not enough sleep. Not getting sleep until two in the morning, and now it was close to eight. How was she supposed to enjoy this supposed vacation if she can't get any sleep, especially with Aaron checking in on her every morning. "So, where were we again?"

"You were about to lecture me again about how you know me better than...well should I even repeat?" Good thing she came prepared for this. His lectures always were well...they came from the right place in his heart, but she didn't want to hear them. Not this early the morning.

"Oh yes! I remember now!" Aaron remembered much to Jean's dismay. And here we go. Jean finally finished with the assault to her hair and was prepared to like always ignore Aaron and his ramblings again.

"I'm all ears, buddy." Jean lied with her eyes rolling and turned on the faucet to brush her teeth. "Fire away!"

"Okay, Jean. Here's the lowdown. We all know how you take your job seriously, and hadn't failed to come to work on time. But you work practically seven days a week and including the holidays..." And there he goes again, repeating same mantra over like she hadn't heard about it before. Jean just continued to brush her teeth, the noise drowning out Aaron's voice as she did so. And unfortunately, he was right about her. She was a workaholic.

Jean wasn't always like this. Yes, she worked hard to get her job done. And yes, it was no problem for her. Working like this for nearly four years now, it just seemed the same routine. Jean didn't mind, though. Working as a cop in New York City really wasn't her big dream growing up, but it paid the bills and gave her food on the table. Just providing for herself had its benefits, and she liked it that way. Only having to think for herself with no baggage attached helps a lot. It gave her more flexible time to bring more dough in.

Jean Thibodeaux worked as a cop for the better part of three years now. At twenty-one years old, she came into the New York trying to escape from something. Escaping from what, her superiors didn't know because she didn't let them know. Her problems were her own, and she never spoke a word of it. Jean was determined to do her part, and she wasn't going to let anyone get in the middle of that. Looking for something that could bring actually helpful to this place, she applied for the police academy. Feeling useful was better than sitting in misery.

Applying for the police academy turned out to be an outlet Jean soared in with flying colors. With a stubborn determination, some smarts, and a natural arm for guns, Jean took to this naturally like a fish to water. Almost too naturally, but Jean didn't think none of it. It didn't matter to her. She just figured it was just something that she could finally be good at despite the screwups and mistakes in her life that haunted her.

Jean remembered the day when graduation came around. God, she was so nervous that day. That was the day every head of the precincts in New York would come around and take a peek at the academy's graduates to add along to their forces. Her palms were so clammy and her body kept shaking as she tried to keep everything under control. She didn't want to seem like a nervous wreck. She worked hard to get this far, and there was no way she was messing up now.

Now, all of her own thoughts had flown out the window once a blood-curling scream erupted from within the crowd. With her being closest by, she ran to the source of the scream, who was a older woman panicking by her all too still of a husband lying on the floor.

All of her instincts and studies kicked into automatic once Jean took control over the situation. She first had to snap the inconsolable woman back to reality before things got out of hand. Jean didn't want to offend her, but she had to save the man's life. Proceeding to do CPR then, she pushed herself to get the man's heart beating again. Giving the lungs oxygen and with the compressions, Jean wouldn't give up. Not while his life was in her hands, and she had the opportunity to save him.

After agonizing moments of waiting, just when the ambulance arrived in the nick of time, Jean finally got the man's heartbeat going again. Everyone clapped and cheered for the graduate who saved the man's life. Unannounced to Jean, that life turned out to be retiring Captain of the 5th Precinct in downtown New York, but was one of the more renounced ones and very respected. And one of the witnesses of the saving act was no other than the Captain's son, who was about to take his father's place as Captain.

Jean had finally found out who the man she saved was when someone walked up to her, shaking her hand so far in thanking her. She was shocked when she was talking to David Petrillo, one of the best police officers the other students in her class would talk about at the academy. She never thought she'd saved his father's life. But, after seeing the display, David came to a decision in offering her a job under his supervision at the 5th Precinct.

She couldn't refuse. Jean gladly took the job.

It wasn't until later on when she started to work for the 5th Precinct that she learned about who her boss was.

Captain David Petrillo's family had been in the working for the judicial system for God knows how long. It was tradition to be proud of. As head patriarch of his family, it wasn't rare news that he would take his father's place, which he was proud of in no doubt. He had a daughter who was a district attorney while his son was a detective. He also had another son who had finished the police academy three years before she started and now was twenty-seven and loved to work with the hands-on experience. He hated working behind the desk from what she was told.

And how she ended up partnered with Aaron Petrillo was beyond her, which brings Jean back to present.

"...and you need to take a break from all of this. It's not healthy, and we're only - Are you even listening to me?" Aaron asked in an annoyed tone when he fully realized too late.

"Nope." Jean answered, popping out the 'p' after she spat out the toothpaste and crud into the sink, washing it out with the water and into the drain.

"Jean," Aaron addressed her in his finally serious voice that Jean was familiar with echoed through the receiver, "you can't just blow me off and sweep me under the rug. You know what I say is true."

She sighed. "...I know."

"Then why must you always been so stubborn?"

"Because I wouldn't be me if I wasn't. Besides, I didn't ask for any favors. Is it so bad of me to let me do my job?" she asked in a tired tone as she made it back to bedroom, looking for some clothes to be decent to wear in other than her pajamas. She took her phone off the speaker and brought the phone back to her ear. "Look, I'm sorry. I appreciate how you look after me, Aaron. I really do...I'm just...I don't know."

She could hear the all too familiar sigh coming from him. Jean may not have expressed it enough, but she was truly grateful for Aaron Petrillo and his family. Working in their precinct cemented a sense of family in her life, but she couldn't help but feel the lack of where it came from real family. Jean really missed hers back in...well...she didn't want to think of them right now, especially since New York wasn't originally her home state. It was pretty bad that she was almost twenty-four years old and hadn't exactly gotten over the dark tragedy.

"Jean, I know this hasn't been easy. I don't know about your past, but it doesn't matter to me. Dad and me are supposed to look after who work with us. You're part of the team whether you like it or not." He reassured her in a gentle yet firm tone. He knew that whatever haunted her so much wasn't going to go away so easily. When his father assigned Jean Thibodeaux to be under his wing, he'd never thought she would grow in the three years Aaron knew her.

"Do you want to meet up for lunch? I mean, if you're still at home, I assume you took the day off." Jean knew it was a little early to ask, but she was tired of being by herself on this vacation. She needed to get back to civilization. The loneliness was getting to her, not that she wasn't going to admit out loud. No need to announce it to the world.

"Dad's been on a vacation kick lately. Says people have been working too hard. I'm lucky he only gave me a day. You got the shorter end of the stick," Aaron snickered. It's too bad that his laughs were contagious because Jean ended up laughing too, even from trying so hard not to. "Oh! I heard you. There's my witty girl. I know you couldn't be all in a sour mood all the time."

Jean bit back a laugh. "You just got lucky," she threw a weak retort as she sat on her bed. "You still want to meet up or not?"

"Sure, Jeanie-bean. Meet me at McDonald's at eleven. I'm craving fast food like crazy." Aaron said before the aggravated tone resumed in his voice again followed by the cat screeching and a crash. "DAMMIT, YOU STUPID CAT!"

Jean wasn't given enough time to reply back since Aaron ended the call. Shaking her head, she put her cellphone on the nightstand and headed to her closet. It didn't take long before Jean got dressed into some comfortable jean shorts, her jogging sneakers, and a loose shirt. With the sticky heat in the concrete jungle at its all time high, Jean didn't want to be sweltering. With hours to spare and not really hungry for breakfast, she opted for just watching mindless tv while she was at it.

"Hope they have something good on." she mumbled as she sat in her recliner, flipping on the tv as she tried to work her hair into a ponytail.

It's weird how she has like 800 channels, and there's hardly anything worth playing on an early Thursday morning.

Flipping to Spongebob.

"Nope."

Then flipping to the weather channel.

"Already seen it on the Internet."

Then the Young and the Restless was on.

"Hell no! No soap operas!"

And God, they had to have Dora the Explorer.

"IT BURNS!" Jean exaggerated loudly as she flipped the channel again only to come across a familiar show on BBC America. Tilting her head in curiosity, she watched the show for a few moments until she recognized it.

Doctor Who.

"Holy crap. This was the show she told me about." Jean mused to herself as a familiar memory of her best friend obsessing over some time-traveling show. She kept jumping up and down like a kid on Christmas telling her how great the show was.

_"You so need to watch this! I'm telling you that you would like this!"_ her best friend had yelled to her with the remote in her hands.

Apparently, Charlene hadn't forgotten the inner sci-fi fan in Jean. Secretly, Jean collected the entire series of Star Trek: The Next Generation and the original series, which were sitting in the dvd shelf next to the television. The sci-fi stuff had and always will be special for Jean. It had been a special time of where Jean and her mother would watch it when she was a child. Jean was instantly hooked to it, and rarely did anyone see it. Other than Aaron who had come to her apartment on a few occasions.

_"Hold your horses, Char. I'm usually the impatient one here, but I can see where you're coming from. Let do this another night, okay. I've got my hands full kinda here." _Jean told her at the time.

It was too bad it was the last time she saw Charlene again before she went missing. Keeping her eyes fixed on the tv, jean watched what appeared to be a very emotional part of an episode considering all the characters were crying or at least about to.

There were three people on some beach. Two of them were female while the other was male. Both of the females were blonde while the guy in the pinstripped suit had brown hair that seemed to take a life of its own. Weird. Jean shook her head and just watched the show. The lone blonde across from the couple on the beach was steadily crying more and more as the emotional scene continued on.

"Am I ever gonna see either of you again?" the blonde earnestly asked with her words blubbering together making it hard for Jean to understand.

The man in the suit showed up on the screen with his face contorting conflictingly, trying desperately to keep everything together. "You can't."

"What're you both gonna do?" the crying blonde asked the couple.

"Oh, I've got the TARDIS. Same old life. Last of the Time Lords." The television shifted to the man looking to the blonde. "Well, sort of."

That's when Jean's mouth nearly dropped to the floor. There right in the center of the screen was a very familiar face. The same curly blonde hair, bright blue eyes, the defined cheekbones, and everything and all. Charlene...what in the hell? Jean rubbed her eyes again, also rubbing her temples in the process from the pounding headache from last night.

"I definitely drank too much last night." The hangover and hallucinations were definitely proof in Jean's book. God, she only drank a few shots of whiskey and a little bit of tequila and now it messed with her head. Son of a bitch. When the tv's volume became too loud, she turned off the tv and proceeded to put her hair in a ponytail. She needed to get out and get some fresh air.

Being the impatient one as always, Jean didn't want to wait until eleven to get out. She lived in downtown New York for crying out loud! Shrugging, she grabbed her keys and a couple of twenties to stuff into her pockets. Jean managed to scrap her old pair of sunglasses and her cell phone at the last minute and placed the sunglasses over her eyes. It was so bright and hot outside, that it might as well have been a sauna.

Thankfully, the pharmacy was just a few blocks from her house so a walk wasn't a bad idea. Silently walking maybe can straighten out her brain. Too bad the heat had other ideas. One second out into the sun and she was already sweating buckets. Even back home down south, the heat was always bad. She didn't know which state was worse. Today was so not her day.

She avoided the other people as she walked, primarily focused on getting some more Advil for the pounding headache which was shifting into more of a migraine. Jean still couldn't get over what she saw. It had to be a delusion or she was at least going crazy. There's no way. No fucking way that her still missing best friend was in the damn tv show. No way.

Jean finally came across the Walgreens situating on the corner of the street. Looking up to the sign as she walked up to the crossway, it signaled for her to go across.

Too bad she wouldn't make it across the street.

It was too bad that fate had other plans for her when a speeding driver avoiding the police didn't watch for what was in front of him. The car hit Jean head on, sending her away flying several feet away and making her land on the rough asphalt. The crushing darkness overwhelmed Jean as everything else faded. She didn't know what was happening. Jean just assumed that she was finally being guided into Heaven with her death slowly taking her.

Too bad she was wrong.


	2. Overwhelming Confusion

**A/n: Hello, lovelies. :) I'm really surprised of the nibble of Crimson. I was just like, "Wow." The thing is that I'm used to the craziness of the TVD (The Vampire Diaries) fandom. If you've watched show or The Originals, then you know what I'm talking about. There's always that group of ridiculousness in any show, you know. I was glad I got good responses from this one. I'm glad you like Jean. :)**

**And just to let you know, Jean isn't the Doctor's love interest, but will be highly involved in the series for what I have planned. :) This story is a AU spinoff from Never Be The Same. That story is written by my best friend, The Doctor's Charlene. Her oc is Charlene. DC has been waiting for something like this to come from me, and I'm glad I got it out there. Please enjoy the next chapter. Sorry for any errors or mistakes. **

**So to clear any confusion, Jean is twenty-three years old. **

**Please Review! **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except for the characters I created!**

**I'm sorry if I messed up anything when it comes to medical information. I am not a doctor so don't bash me. Sorry for any errors. **

Chapter 2: Overwhelming Confusion

_Fire. _

_They say great people are forged from fire. _

_Jean didn't really agreed with that statement, but she had her own theory. _

_Fire. There was nothing else like it. Beautiful it may be in appearance, but come too close and you'll get burned. Jean got burned way too many times. She was used to it. Burning. _

_Too much._

_Fire forged her into a person that she was forced to become. A girl who grew up too fast. She learned a very harsh lesson ever since she was a child. You become strong or you'll never survive. She learned early on she was a survivor. Whereas Jean possessed a resilient will to never give in, others didn't so easily. She never questioned it. She couldn't. _

_She hated the fire yet she needed it. It changed her life in ways that she couldn't stand, leaving her burned and scarred to fend for herself. Yet again, Jean always had to protect herself. She was thrown out to the sharks way before then. Was was so new about this? _

_When the fire caused her so much pain, it also made her stronger. From the ashes, Jean rose up like a phoenix as a brand new person. Stronger. Faster. Harder. _

_She hated it yet she needed it. _

_The fire was burning her again. Just like it always did before. _

Jean emitted a soft whimper as the nightmare burned in her mind, never extending any mercy towards her. She should have been used to it by now. The nightmares were always like that except they were never this long.

The darkness had shrouded all around and never ceased. It seemed to live on for eternity. Never ending, never slowing. It lived on forever.

Jean wasn't good at math, but she was smart enough to guess this darkness had been around for a while. The nightmares came back to her and took advantage of the darkness that resided in her mind. It overstayed its welcome, but there was nothing Jean could do except take part with agony filled eyes. All of her fears and demons came out to play with her in the dark with a vengeance.

The burning was a familiar one. An old demon that loved to taunt her with old jabs. Jean could handle the fire. She was strong enough.

It was the darkest of her demons that brought the most torture.

Jean...

She shook her head, trying in vain to get away.

Jean...

The voice was louder this time. She could hear it more clearly now.

"Jean...can you hear me?" There it was. It was for real. Jean could finally believe for real this time. She wasn't hallucinating from everything.

Suddenly, a white light pierced through the darkness that kept Jean imprisoned for what felt like to be centuries. The demons and her nightmares fled back to their comfortable and dark habitat, hissing in rage of the trespassing of their hunting ground. Jean welcomed the bright light with open arms as felt the darkness lift. Everything around her became lighter around her as the white light engulfed her, slowly bringing her back to reality.

As she was about to came to, many flashes sparked around her like fireworks. Too many pictures around her as Jean tried to find her ground with reality. They were too many faces and images she didn't recognize. So many voices speaking out in too many languages. There was no recognition on Jean's part. She didn't have a damn clue. She tried to yell out for answers, but she couldn't find her voice. Nothing came out. Only pain shot out.

Then the crazy unknown images broke out, and the white light faded around her. It separated and dimmed to a singular point, the light waving back and forth between her eyes as the blurry images around began to clear away.

"She's responding. That's a good sign." Jean's ears picked up an unfamiliar voice. Her tired eyes shifted towards the source, trying to discern who everyone was and make sense of everything. "Her optic response is fairing, and the hearing seems to be just on the same route as well judging from observation."

The blurry scene around her began to clear as the details and imperfections became more distinct. the familiar sounds of a machine measuring her heart rate indicated that Jean was in a hospital of some sort. Jean had been through too many scraps and injuries to not recognize a few things. She blinked her eyes several times before taking everything in. The walls of the room she was kept in were a nice shade of light blue compared to the dull white like normal hospitals back home. The bustle of people coming in and out wasn't anything new either. Then Jean looked directly ahead to see people standing around her in doctor garb.

She tried to speak, but pain shot through her throat again as something foreign was lodged in her throat. Impatiently, Jean struggled to take it, but a pair of hands stopped her.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Take it easy, madam." An older man in a suit urged her. "Don't need to injure yourself further."

Jean's forehead crinkled and her eyebrows furrowed at him. They better have a damn good reason to have this in her throat or she was cracking heads. She sent a heavy glare his way and gestured to the damn stick-thing in her throat. She knew the man was smart enough to take a damn hint.

"Now, madam, my name is Doctor Stoker. I am about to take the tube out of your throat that we had this placed in you to help you with your breathing." He explained to her with Jean's heavy glare still dead set on him, but remained unaffected. Just what she needed. The doctor taking his lovely time while things seemed so hunky-dory. Like Jean planned to be stuck in a hospital. Someone note the sarcasm because it's pretty damn obvious.

"Now, you see ladies and gentlemen. There are a variety of responses that can take place once a comatose patient wakes up. For example, this patient here like so. Obviously, some patients don't respond as well as we like when they come back to reality. So, the best way to approach this is with respect." The man explained to the group of younger people in white medical coats who hung around Jean's bed. Much to her dismay, she felt crowded with so many people invading her space.

Jean shrunk back as far as she could from them in her bed, not wanting to be so crowded. Overwhelmed, she brought her hands up and waved them around to usher them away from her. They were lucky that Jean couldn't talk right now or she'd be yelling at them silly.

"Stand back, kids. Watch and learn." A few hushed laughs erupted from the group of younger people that seemed around Jean's age. Jean was pretty good in guessing ages, surprisingly. Despite being horrid at advanced math, she could hold her own. Now if only she could hold her own against the doctor and his freaking bear paws!

"Madam, I'm going to take this breathing tube out, but you need to remain still." Somehow, he managed to get the tube out of her without any problems despite her squirming.

The foreign piece lodged in her windpipe finally left, giving her a nice relief. Her body relaxed after what seemed forever as she sank back into the bed. The glare dampened only a little bit as she gazed at the group around her. What was the point of them being here?

Trying to gather her strength, her voice came out cracky and raspy. Was she even supposed to talk? Questions ran rampant in her brain as she tried to make sense of what was going on. "...where...in...the...hell...am...I?" she rasped.

Why was the awkward silence really kicking in?

Jean's glare shifted to now at everyone else. Clearing her throat, she spoke again with her voice somewhat better than before. "I know you're pretty smart people, and I know I'm not stupid so I'm going...to ask again. Where am I?"

It was then a dark-skinned young woman stepped up from group, making herself known. "You're at Royal Hope Hospital in London, England," she explained to her. "According to your medical charts, you've been in a coma for a good solid month and a half now. Do you remember anything from before?"

Jean's eyes widened. A month and a half? How was she in England of all of places? Was this woman serious? Doubt flooded through her brain, her heart pounding at a breakneck pace. Nothing made sense anymore.

Closing her eyes in concentration, she tried to recollect from the last memory. Everything was so scattered and jumbled, it was hard to piece everything together exactly. There was little she remembered. What she remembered the most was the sudden impact. Just in a flash, BAM! A flash of yellow, and then pain dragging her away into the darkness. She was always afraid of the dark for a reason. She was scared of what it would bring, but there was something in here that refused to give in. She wasn't a coward.

Opening her eyes again, she tried to answer the woman's question. The headache behind her eyes was really taking a toll on her. "I was...walking. Going somewhere I think...to the pharmacy. I had a huge headache, like a hammer was pounding against my skull. I was crossing the street until all I felt was pain. Everything went dark, and that's all I know."

The dark-skinned woman nodded, comprehending what Jean was saying. Her face sobered for a moment as she tried to speak about what had happened to Jean. "You were hit by a taxi, and the impact and injuries pushed you into a comatose state."

"What day is it today?" Jean asked quickly.

"July 4, 2008." One of the students answered automatically.

Jean sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose as she tried to piece everything together. Nothing was connecting right. There's a certain a gap she couldn't make sense of. She was trying to make sense, but everything was too overwhelming. Jean's senses and nerves overloaded. Her breathing became harder and erratic as her throat seemed to have tighten. She placed a hand over her chest, trying to steady her overworking heart, evident from the fucking machine! The anxiety hit a high note, and Jean was having a hard time coming down.

"Oh, God," Jean gasped, running her hands through her matted and oily hair tightly. It was a surprise she hadn't pulled her hair out from pulling so tightly. Nothing was holding together. The full realization hit her like a freight train with so much force. It was too much.

Jean wasn't in New York, but in England of all places. How she was even here of all places was a mystery. She had been in a comatose state with no one she knew that was familiar. And the worst of all?

She had to wake up right before that goddamned day came, always bringing torment and agony.

"NO! No, this isn't right! I can't - this isn't possible!" Jean's words soon became indiscernible as her cries turned hysterical when she pulled her knees up and started rocking herself.

She felt an unexpected pair of arms gather her to somewhere warm, her body shaking with anxiety and probably way worse the way things were heading. Jean literally couldn't fathom or process any of it with such an overload blinding her.

"It's alright. You're not alone. You're not alone." The female student repeated over and over again as Jean received the woman's earnest comfort. She was working herself into a panic attack with all of the craziness that had exploded in such a short length of time. Anxiety-filled tears fell from her eyes as her body let out everything it had been holding in.

"We might as well go and sedate her. It's best that she gets her rest." Mr. Stoker suggested.

In a almost impossibly, quick snap, Jean went rigid as a post from hearing the word 'sedation.' her crying stopped momentarily as the word rung in her head. Sedation meant having to sleep, sleep meant having to dream, and dreams lead to the...no. She'd been a sleep for a solid month and more time than that according to what the lady said. If there's a chance to refuse to sleep, Jean was going to take it. Hiccuping from the hysterical crying fit, Jean peered up to the group and raised her hand, shaking it to let them know.

"No...please. I can't...it's been too long. I don't want to go back to sleep." She almost stammered over her words. "I...I'll handle it better. Just don't put me under."

Mr. Stoker rubbed his chin with his hand, himself deep in thought. The welfare of this patient was questionable. With no knowledge of immediate family or friends who could vouch for her, she would be stuck here for the time being. Of course, there was the necessary recovery that needed to be implemented since she woke up from a coma. The situation would have to be addressed for another time. Hopefully soon, but not now judging from the emotional response. He shifted to the student who had stepped up to the plate in this patient's wellbeing.

"Martha Jones," he addressed.

"Yes?" Jean could hear the conversation between them.

"This will be part of your internship. You will help in the woman's care and see to her needs. It's nothing you cannot handle, but it's always good to be prepared." He knew what he was doing. Damn well what. "You know what I mean though, right Miss Jones?"

"Of course," she replied to him.

"We will be in the next room so you won't be far behind." He reminded her as he gathered the rest of the students, and they left room with the others working on the rest of the patients in the ward. "Now, ladies and gents. We are off to the NICU where you will see more of a variety of our patients residing..."

Mr. Stoker's voice eventually faded away as they turned off into the hallway with the group of students trailing after him. Turning back to the patient, Martha let go of her slowly, making sure she was alright before she would have to make her leave. The student did see that the woman had gone through a traumatizing ordeal, and it didn't surprise her at all with the reaction. Sometimes on a occasion, there would be a time her heart would break once for those patients coming in through the emergency doors. You have your days of happy endings and then the not so happy ones. It showed Martha that you have to make the best with what you got and try your best to move on. People live and die. It's just life.

"Excuse me..." Martha turned to the voice of the awakened woman, catching the self-inflicted disappointment directed towards herself. "I'm sorry to have caused you this much trouble. I'm usually not like this."

"You have nothing to apologize for, okay. You have every right to react the way you did. If any regular person, they would still be going crazy about it. You're taking it surprisingly well after you let it out." Martha explained honestly, observing the fatigue and the emotional weight in her eyes. What had happened to her?

"Like I said before, I'm a big girl and I can handle most things. But we're all human in the end, aren't we? We can't fight how we feel."

"You're absolutely right. By the way, I haven't introduced myself properly. My name's Martha Jones. What's yours?" Martha introduced herself, holding out her hand for Jean to shake.

Jean shook Martha's hand in a strong grip. "Nice to meet, y'all. My name is Jeanette Thibodeaux. Just call me Jean, though."

Martha paused for a second in hearing the...foreign accent in her tone. Arching an eyebrow, she wondered in curiosity. "Where are you from exactly?"

Jean didn't miss a beat. The corners of her mouth pulled up into a knowing grin, something that Jean missed doing. Grinning and smiling usually came so naturally like breathing. She was always ready with a witty response and the outlook she kept around her. It felt like forever since she laughed though it was otherwise.

"The way I speak is weird, huh?"

"Not exactly, it's just not from around here considering you're American." Martha laughed a little.

"Alright, I'll come out with it." Jean exaggerated herself with some theatrics of coming clean. "I have a twangy, countrified accent. I'm lucky staying up northside kinda dampened it down, but it comes out sometimes."

"Southern United States?"

"Yep." Jean said with a chuckle. "I was born and raised, but I gotta admit. I've seen better things than just in America. Gotta keep an open mind for new things and be ready to explore them. You never know what could happen."

"Who told you that? Whoever said that to you must have known what they were doing."Martha asked.

Jean's confusion came back slightly as her brain could only come up with a blank answer. "I don't know to be honest." She shrugged her shoulders. "I really don't know where it came from."

To be honest, she'd never heard from anyone. It was just something that stuck with her in the recesses of her mind, ready to be used like something stored in the , Jean wasn't one with all the wisdom and philosophy nonsense or whatever it was. Jean was always a doer kind of person. A woman of action. From working as a cop in the busy streets of Manhattan, it gave her a thrill and rush she couldn't deny. She'd be an idiot if she lived in denial.

Martha glanced at her watch, keeping her eye on the time. "Listen, I don't mean to be rude but I need to get going. You know..."

Jean nodded. "Don't worry, I totally get it. It's fine. You have a life besides taking care of me. I'll be okay?"

"Are you sure?" Martha couldn't help, but show some slight doubt. But did Jean fully comprehend how much of an ordeal she went through, but then again. Did Martha know Jean that well enough to really have doubts? She's only met Jean for only what? Five minutes? Still, judging the knowing look in Jean's eyes, like something all too tiring and familiar cloud them. It gave her the confirmed sign that Jean was stronger than she looked.

"I'll be alright. I'm always alright." Though it was a sort of white lie, but it kind of wasn't. Jean had her reasons of hiding her problems away from the world. Why let her own problems ruin other people's happiness? It wouldn't make her feel better. Just immensely guilty. These dark problems were her own burden no one needed to bear. Yes, it was a hard task. And yes, it was easier said than done. However, it was worth it...most of the time. "Can you just promise me something?"

"Sure, you can ask me anything." Martha reassured her, not leaving until she made sure Jean would be fine on her own.

"Just promise me you'll visit me in your spare time. I mean, when you can do it, you know?" Jean explained further with a bit of sad smile. "I wouldn't mind some interaction with someone I know a little bit."

Martha smiled at Jean's request. "That'll be no trouble at all."

"Thanks a lot, it means a lot to me." Jean thanked her as her eyes caught the familiar group of students and the older doctor from earlier making their way down the hall again. "I think you might want to hurry up with your entourage. They're picking up the pace without you."

Jean laughed at Martha Jones, who had turned around with her dark eyes widening like saucer plates. "Oh shit!" she cried. "I'm so dead! Look, I have to go. I will talk to you later on my lunch break. I promise!"

"Don't worry, mate!" Jean called with a badly done imitation of a British accent. As Martha scurred off to play catch up, she leaned back into the bed, releasing a _very _heavy sigh. Feeling eyes on her, she looked up to see several people staring at her. Great, just what was necessary.

"What?" she asked. "The accent wasn't that bad."

**{Crimson}**

**A/n: I hoped you liked the second chapter. :) I really wanted to lay a foundation for the friendship with Martha and Jean, and also lay the formation of the very interesting chapter coming next. :) I'm glad I got this out after the very busy Thanksgiving weekend I've been having. I hope you have a safe trip home and stuff. Until next time. :D**


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